kiss the boy and make him wonder
by tatty ted
Summary: "Jack Garrett." He says with a smile, "Annie Cabbot." She answers back. - —Annie/Jack. REPOST.


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kiss the boy & make him wonder.  
_crossover between dci banks & cold kill, the book._

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She's been dragged along to a speed dating event with her best friend. She doesn't know why. She's much happier on her own rather than with that twat of a boyfriend who walked three months ago.

"Jack Garrett, Journalist." He says and she smiles. He's tall about five nine, brown hair and brown eyes, in other words; he's her dream man.

"Annie. Annie Cabbott, Receptionist." She lies. She doesn't want to say she's a Detective working for a murder squad. It would make any man with an interest for her, run away. Instead, she comes up with a convincing tale that she's a Receptionist at the local health centre.

He seems to buy it because he scribbles down her number on a paper napkin and says he'll call her. She doesn't hold on to much hope that he will. Men say one thing and mean the complete opposite. Still, she thinks as she walks home with her friend, she did enjoy herself tonight.

/

She's suprised to recieve a phone call the next morning as she's in the shower. He asks if he can buy her dinner that evening to which she agrees. She's excited but nervous none the less. After all, he could be a serial killer who has an obsession with blonde _receptionist's_.

"Can I pick you up at seven?"

"Yeah." She replied before telling him his address. Once she'd finished on the phone, she returned to her shower and thought about what she could wear for tonight. Casual? Classy? Smart Casual? Jesus, who knew it would be so hard to find an outfit for that one dinner date?

/

The rest of the day goes by and all she does is go over her case-notes for the big trial next week. An hour before he picks her up, she begins to get ready. She pulls out a pair of black jeans and a long white blouse and changes into it. It was comfortable but smart too, what could go wrong?

The doorbell rings and she glances at the clock. She notices that he's early and she goes to the door. He's on the doorstep, a bottle of wine in his hand. He's dressed to impress in a pair of jeans and a shirt and tie.

She thanks him for the bottle of wine, red which is her favourite. He tells her the table is booked for eight and she feels the familar return of butterflies in the bottom of her stomach.

/

Dinner is successful and they agree to go out again.

/

And again.

/

And again.

/

And again.

/

On the fifth date, they're stood outside her house, the street lamp shining on them. It's warm outside and they're stood close together.

"I'd like to see you again." He tells her and she nods and answers she'll like that. There's nothing but silence until he kisses her lips. They haven't kissed until this evening and at first she doesn't respond. When she does, she breaks apart and giggles like a school girl.

"Do you want a coffee?" She asks and he laughs, "I wouldn't mind something else, if you know what I mean?"

She pretends to be innocent.

/

The months pass in a blur of late night talks, cuddles and walks along the field. She's happy when her fingers are entwined with his and she's skipping along the grass like a teenager in love. She's happy. Happy with herself. Happy with him for making her happy.

Then one day, he blurts out something; "I'm married."

She feels sick. Married? He's _married_. For six months she's been a mistress to a man she thought was her everything. She screams at him to leave and he doesn't say a thing as he packs his bags and leaves her.

She slides down the wall, hugs her knees and cries for the last six months of lies that rolled off his tongue.

/

She doesn't leave the house for six days afterwards. She phones in sick for work and Alan knows there's something wrong. He goes round on her sixth day off, rings the doorbell and waits for her to answer.

When she does, he holds up the chinese he's brought round along with the bottle of wine and she smiles slightly.

/

They're comfortable in each others company and she rests her head on his shoulder. He smiles as she does and she begins to explain about her twat of a boyfriend, the one who lied to her. He doesn't say anything, he just wonders why she can't see it.

The talks. The overprotectiveness. The heart-to-hearts.

He doesn't do it because he wants to be her friend. He does it because he loves her.

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**jottings** — enjoyed it enough to favourite? please don't forget to leave a review. (:


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